If Mount Rainier was in Austria, I likely would have explored it on my first week in that country. But for all my life I’ve looked at it standing Fuji-like on Seattle’s horizon and never driven the hour off I-5 to actually take a hike there.
A friend, Sherri, celebrated her 50th birthday by assembling a gang of nine (including me and my wife Anne) to hike to Camp Muir — the base camp at 10,400 feet, below the mountain’s 14,400 foot summit. Helmets are required to hike beyond Camp Muir.
I’ve never really hiked up a mountain like this so gear was a mystery to me. I used gaiters for the first time (great for keeping snow from falling into your shoes). I tried some borrowed, “serious” boots but opted for my high-top Eccos (my winter Europe shoes — they were just fine). I never wear sunglasses but everyone said that they’re required for hiking all day on snow and ice. I found old clip-ons and bent them to fit my current glasses. (My one gear regret was eye protection — my eyes are sore and red today.)
Suiting up in the parking lot, I debated between polypropylene gear and my favorite cotton. Every mountaineer loves to say “cotton kills” (it doesn’t keep you warm when wet) but I anticipated hot weather and wore the cotton, packed the polyprope, and appreciated the cool of my sweat on this gloriously sunny day. Ski poles were vital. I don’t think I could have made it without them (for helping power up, navigating fields of ankle-breaking rocks, and glissading down). The prescribed water for a nine-mile, 5,000-foot elevation gain hike: two to three liters. I took five half-liter plastic bottles and finished the last one in sight of our lodge.
I wrapped my toes prophylactically. In their white tape they looked like little hostages. It was probably best they didn’t know where I was taking them.
The nine of us left Edmonds at 5:30 am, arrived at Paradise Lodge in Mount Rainier National Park by 9:00, and were on the trail by 9:30. I had hopes of getting back to the lodge in mid-afternoon. We would rumble home just as the sun was setting at 7:30 pm. We took it easy — and spent 10 hours on the hike.
Searching the web for “Camp Muir Rainier hike” I found reports all over the place on the time required (four to eight hours). All said it was a very difficult hike, not for beginners, and worth the work. As this was September, we hiked through a lot of rock fields, which slowed us down. Not in mountain-climbing shape, I enjoyed plenty of re-energizing “savor the view” stops. The views explained to me why many find God on Rainier.
A nine-mile hike with a 5,000 foot elevation gain means we gained one mile in altitude in 4.5 miles of uphill climbing. I just thought: I’m climbing and then descending a staircase a mile high. In Europe there would have been a gondola to the summit — here you had to earn it.
The first half of the hike took us to Pebble Creek, a steep, partially-paved, then dirt path lined with boulders to keep you off the fragile meadows. We saw deer, marmot, and chipmunks. On this Thursday in mid-September, we probably passed 100 people over the hike. I’d say a quarter of them were foreign visitors. Every time a group of “summiteers” passed us — marching effortlessly up or down in their crampons — we felt like sophomores in the presence of upperclassmen.
Sherri, the birthday girl, had made the hike six times. The guardian angel of blister protection, she’d wrap anyone’s “hot spot” anywhere … anytime. At each stop we’d slather on the sunscreen.
Halfway up, we stopped and chatted with a dear 76-year-old man — who looked 60. He was Dale Thompson, a retired ranger who had spent a lifetime working and playing on this mountain. Hearing him recount his mountaineering stories was as engrossing as reading some thrilling mountain-climbing book.
The last mile was exhausting. Step after step I trudged, staring at my shadow in the snow leading me uphill. There was no trail really … just keep climbing up. Sliding back on the ice sucked extra energy. Slow, small steps … breathe loudly, Dale Thompson advised (“none of this macho holding your breath”). For one stretch I put on my iPod to sample the joy of music at 10,000 feet and found it made climbing easier.
A distressed man in a t-shirt came through the snowfield at me. I took off my earbuds and he said, “Be careful of the crevasses.” As this was September, the crevasses were opening up. He crashed through one, just catching himself with half his body dangling over an open hole. Horizontal fissures marked the last stretch of our hike to Camp Muir. We’d cross them where it seemed to be strongest. Following a line of boot prints, I came upon a hole in the ice three feet around and then the boot steps showed how he somehow got out and carried on. It must have been the guy in the t-shirt.
Camp Muir is a shanty hamlet of three or four mountain huts where, for a century, people have slept before summiting Rainier. The best thing about the place is the commanding view and the feeling of accomplishment for a novice to actually be here. Most people’s Camp Muir memory includes the smell of sewer.
My memory is of a tumbling boulder. Two hundred yards below Camp Muir is an ice field dotted with volcanic boulders — most a foot or two wide, some four or five feet wide. I was with three others and our main concern was simply keeping our footing on the steep, icy face. Suddenly we felt, heard, and then saw a huge boulder bouncing demonically down the mountain right at us. It’s one of those times when your brain works at the speed of light. Clearly, the rock would have killed whoever it hit. I looked at the rock — thought of my wife and the others. It was bouncing like a goofy football and could go potluck in any direction. It felt surreal, like I was in a treacherous video game. I remember thinking “I’d love to grab a photo … but in a snapshot, it would look just like all the other boulders.” Then I thought, “That’s ridiculous.” We scrambled to the side and it bounced by us, getting as much air as a tumbling beach ball. Gathering our wits, now we all just wanted to cross those crevasses and get back down.
We passed the t-shirt man’s body hole, hopped and slid past the crevasses, and finally got to more comfortable terrain. My knees and legs were pretty tired and I knew there was a mile of altitude to lose before dinner. I put on my polyprope jacket and heavy leather mitts in anticipation of a tumble on the rocks or ice.
We cracked open our big black garbage bags and, with every chance to sled down a snowfield, held the bags between our legs like a diaper, rolled on our side to dig in our ski poles to slow down when necessary, and scooted, laughing, down the mountain. Navigating between ice fields on the broken rocks was no fun. As we descended (realizing we’d spent six hours just getting from Paradise at 5,000 feet to Camp Muir at 10,400 feet) we kept marveling at the story of the fastest Rainier climber, who actually went from Paradise to the summit (14,400 feet) and back in four hours.
At Pebble Creek we took off the gaiters and dressed down for the easy hike back to the lodge. Just as photographers were hiking up to catch the purples and golds of the sunset on the mountain, we got back to Paradise Lodge. With four bloody knees and two bloody elbows and nine big smiles between us, we were thankful to all be home in one piece.
For me, I think this was the max. Stretching out on the split-log bench, under the sturdy eaves of our humble circa 1920 mountain lodge, I was almost not able to get up. I felt wonderfully stiff. Looking back up at the mountain, I was thankful that I had skipped two days of work to enjoy Sherri’s fiftieth, the best birthday party of my life. And for the rest of my life, when I marvel at our Seattle views of Mount Rainier, it will come with more understanding and rich memories.
Welcome to America Rick! You may be surprised at what wonders you can find in these 57 states! Perhaps as you near your golden years you could write some travel guides for the USA. Your hike does indeed sound like the high point of the summer.
Great Job Rick. I was wonderfully sunburned this summer hiking up the snow on the way to Camp Muir. Well, maybe not so wonderfully… It is amazing to see the peak of the mountain that seems so massive back down at sea level (tacoma).
Good for you! I am always trying things at 61 and telling myself “I’m not going to be last”. Yes, it is okay to breathe loudly and take in scenic “rest” stops! I’m glad you did a quick spell check — somebody caught it as I was getting ready to type my comment. Next stop: Half Dome at Yosemite!
As a kid, every peak within sight was a goal and a celebration. This summer I did Whitney, Wheeler and a few others in the Great Basin National Park and I have to say, I wondered why during that last 1000 to 4000 feet. But then at the top with my friends, my camera and passing around a bottle of wine, it became clear again. The armour of civilization seems to fall away like scales and I feel a more human part of the world. In fact, I feel like a rookie when looking at how relaxed and at home nature is around me…the destructive intruder.
I’ve never had the slightest urge to climb any mountain in any country. Years ago when I often flew from Los Angeles to Seattle, the plane would fly far east of Yosemite, so we had an unusual view into Yosemite Valley, we could see the “other side†of Half-Dome. We also flew over Lake Tahoe, could see Mt. Lassen on the right, Mt. Shasta on the left, then Crater Lake, Mt. Hood, and Mt. Rainier. Perhaps the most scenic airplane flight in the world, especially in winter-time, and especially Crater Lake, with snow covered Wizard Island “floating†in the lake. One time I did experience the next best thing to climbing Mt. Rainier. As we left SeaTac on a beautiful day (from my experience, and what I have been told, that day was very unusual for Seattle) the Pilot came on the speaker and said, “I know this is against the law, but we are going sight seeing.†He then circled Mt. Rainier, round and round several times, and it seemed close enough to reach out and get a handful of snow. A wonderful flight. Whoops, now I remember, we did climb one famous mountain. We drove as far up Mt. Vesuvius as we could, then since the Chair Lift was not working that day, we did walk to the top. The weather was not nice, so we could not see the beautiful scenery of the Isle of Capri, and the Bay of Naples. We picked up a large piece of lava and wanted to take it home with us. The guard let us know it was OK with him. Another unusual item in the Humberd Museum.
Great photos! A Sherri’s Back Door Tour of Washington! I’ve had a few pilots take little sightseeing passes around Mt. Hood and Mt. Rainier. Spectacular views!
Interesting how locals and visitors can have a different perspective on the same thing. The first time I set foot in Seattle, I took one look at Rainier and said “I’m climbing that this weekend”. whereas it looks like it took Rick a little longer to make this decision. Likewise, growing up in Philadelphia, I viewed (and still view) the Liberty Bell as a historically unimportant relic that became famous much the way Paris Hilton did. Yet for some reason, every visitor to Philadelphia puts this poorly constructed hunk of metal on their “must-see” list.
What a great adventure! Rick, you should know that polypro will cool you off when you need it–when you sweat–better than cotton. On shoulder-season trips to Europe a pair of wicking-weight long poly underpants is a great hedge against cold days–it packs very small and gives warmth outdoors but does not stifle inside.
Hey Rick, great story. Next time bring the skis and have a nice schuss down!
Rick, Looks like you guys had a great day for climbing. Thanks for dragging Joni through the slush, wish I could have come along…maybe on Sherri’s 60th. Rocky
Nice adventure. Nice toes. :)
Rick last year you did a blog on how well or financially healthy your business was..jackie said in her blog that there were rough patches in the business. How bout giving us an update on the sales of books and tours..
Rick Great topic and as usual so well described I felt I was there……………I too have seen Mt Rainier from a distance on a visit to Seattle years ago………..now I have a much better appreciation…..Thanks again
Who’s the tall blonde looking fellow wearing shorts ( kneeling) in the one photo ? Could it be… ? This could open a whole new era in the debate on whether shorts are appropriate to wear during such a religious experience.
Seriously, Rick, this is your first trip to Mt. Rainier? Really? I am in W. Washington, and I can’t count how many times I have been to Mt. Rainier. I was up there playing in the snow with my kids two days before giving birth to one of my daughters. I love Europe (I spent half my childhood there and my mother is German, so I have close relatives there still), but we have some amazing places in the US, too. Spend some time visiting the US and talking to Americans, and find out what makes us great (notice I didn’t say better, but I also didn’t say worse.) It might make you a little bit more open-minded about different points of view that people have here and why and also appreciate what a great country we have.
Hey Tom — half the interest of the experience of seeing the Liberty Bell is the wonderfully knowledgeable park rangers who tell such great stories about it. It’s definitely worth the line. I say that as a native Philadelphian. :-) (Franklin Court is the other place I recommend to everyone, and of course Independence Hall–and I remember the days when a trip to Independence Hall was also a trip to the Liberty Bell!) Rick, I hope you get to go to the Grand Canyon someday, and write about it here. I’d love to read it. It’s my favorite place I’ve ever been to. Hee–captcha word is “heroically”
How did we get from Mt. Rainier to the Liberty Bell? ==== I’ve visited the Liberty Bell in Philly, but the ones of most interest are in other locations. The one we found of most interest is located in Schöneberg City Hall in West Berlin, Germany. The bell, a copy of the Liberty Bell in Philadelphia, was presented to Berlin by General Lucius D. Clay on United Nations Day Oct. 24, 1950. When this bell rang, it could be heard in East Berlin, all those terrible years. The cost of the bell was met by 17million Americans, whose signatures are contained in a book preserved in the document room in the tower. This is the location where JFK made his famous “Ich bin ein Berliner” speech. After his assasination in 1963, the square in front of the city hall was renamed John F. Kennedy Platz.
Come on, Rick. You make us wait too long for your blogs. I’m interested to know what you do at your office in between trips to Europe, besides editing and re-writing your guide books. And climbing mountains.
This is the time of life to take some time off and do some of these things we will not be able to physically do someday. I have lived in Northern California all my life and never been to Yosemite. But that is on my list in the near furture!
Judy – Sep 20, 2008 2:25 PM, Yosemite is well worth the visit. It is very large, so it is easy to miss some important and interesting places, so check with the National Park Police, when you get there. I have what I think are some of the very best photos you will find of yosemite, at http://www.travel-tidbits.com/tidbits/cat_yosemite_national_park.shtml
Judy and everyone: Yosemite, imo, is one of the world’s greatest natural wonders. It is awe inspiring. It is one of my most favorite spots and I have asked that some of my ashes be left there. October is a great month to go — take a weekend trip, have breakfast at the Awahnee. You’ll return!
Many years ago I attended a Computer Conference of some kind at Yosemite. My Sweetie was with me, so I invited a Government official and his wife to dinner at the Awahnee Hotel. An exquisite Hotel, Restaurant, and view out the window, don’t miss it. Both couples were telling about their travels, when I mentioned I wanted to visit all states, and said, “Why else would I visit North Dakota?†The customer’s wife laid down her knife and fork, and told me in no uncertain terms that she was born in N. Dakota. Well you can’t win them all. While I am at it, I will tell about another dinner. As we ate dinner in the Chateau Lake Louise, we agreed the view from our table, of the teal blue lake, mountains, and glaciers, was the most scenic dinner view we have experienced. I told my Sweetie, “If you think that view is spectacular, you should see the enchanting, delectable, heavenly view I see at most every meal! No you certainly are not a glacier, but wow, speaking of mountain peaks, … !“ (Lake Louise, Canada)
Hi Rick, We were hiking at Rainier the week before you. We are AMC hiking members from New England. Our group average age is 65…with one guy that just turned 81. Someday come to New Hampshire and climb our White Mountains….half as high as Rainier but much more difficult footing. Love your guide books, Sue
Hello Rick, I didn’t realize that I’m your neighbor – I live in Bellingham. I’ve enjoyed your shows for years, and in fact in 1992/93 I travelled through Europe armed largely with advice and foreknowledge that you provided. With that in mind, I’m a alarmed that you did not add some words of warning to this blog post. I have been climbing peaks for 20+ years, including some of the world’s highest and technically difficult. In addition, I am a member of the local mountain rescue group. Although your group had a largely safe trip, I think it’s important to let people know that their experience — should they choose to try to repeat yours — could be very, very different. The Muir snowfield claims lives nearly every year. Storms wash in without warning, creating whiteout conditions in which it is possible to become hopelessly lost. Glissades run out of control, leading to compound fractures and helicopter airlifts. Rainier herself is composed of loose volcanic rock, boulders of which fall from the high ridges (as you discovered) and which are impossible to avoid should the come your way. (One of my colleagues was killed by rockfall two years ago on a snow slope very similar to the Muir snowfield.) I applaud your willingness to push your boundaries and to explore the unknown. But do tell your readers that this particular unknown is extremely unforgiving and dangerous. I would tell anyone wishing to venture up onto a mountain (especially as one as dangerous as Rainier) to enlist the advice (and even better, the skills) of an experienced mountaineer or guiding group. RMI is one such group that serves Mt. Rainier. (I am in no way associated with RMI, either!)
Reading of your trek brings to mind something my friend said as we hiked the Cinque Terre hills – “If God wanted me to be a mountain goat He would’ve given me horns!” BTW – Thanks to your guidebook, we had a wonderful Italian trip.